


John and Eridan: make love for the first time

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: First Time, M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	John and Eridan: make love for the first time

“Wow, you weren't lying when you said they were really sensitive!”

Eridan cringes when John's fingertips brush against the membranes on either side of his face, but his skittish reflexes only coax soft giggles out of the human while doing nothing to deter his wandering hands.

“Wwhy wwould I lie about somethin' like that?” snaps the sea troll. His accent is stronger when he's nervous. He leaves himself wide open, something John picks up on because he loves the way Eridan talks. He knows he's in the minority of folks that would choose to sit and listen to Eridan's quirky drawl for hours at a time. It's hard to understand sometimes, especially for a human unfamiliar with troll slang, but so easy to lose himself in the bubbly pronunciation of certain syllables. John can't help but find the accent itself _vvery attractivve._

The two of them are facing each other on the twin-sized bed in John's room. It's a tight fit, but the close proximity isn't a problem for them. Lately, it feels like a privilege.

Tonight, however, John is being extra touchy-feely and the aquarius frets by the way the boy keeps scooting him backwards on the foamy, cushioned sleep pad that it's not going to be just shoulders bumping while watching shitty movies together.

It's not as if John is oblivious to his companion's nervousness, although he might as well be. Eridan wonders at first whether or not the human is capable of being _that_ oblivious, but then his back is pressed up against the headboard and he's pretty certain the human's intentions are deliberate.

“Troll biology is so weird,” breathes John in amazement, marveling at the way the fins seem to flutter on their own. He's beaming from ear to ear and his eyes, narrowed by the way his round cheeks cause him to squint when he smiles, are aglow with genuine curiosity. Eridan can't help but feel flattered that another living creature is paying him this much attention. The fact that it's John, his recently-acquired and maybe-something-redder-than-moirail, makes it about a million times better.

“Yours is a lot wweirder,” he tries to return the compliment, but John just laughs. Eridan casts his gaze away, looking anywhere but John's practically shining eyes. He has seen John's eyes more times than any other part of his body, since their options were limited before they were able to meet in person, but the troll is still getting used to seeing the whites of his eyes and the radiant hues of something called an iris. It's a little freaky, not to say that John's eyes aren't beautiful. All of him is downright _gorgeous_ , from the rounded curves of his ears to his bizarre mammalian respiratory system.

Yes, John is gorgeous and he wants to explore all of him the way John pokes and pinches anything and everything that catches his interest in the vicinity of Eridan's body. Speaking of which, John is now pinching his fins and gaping at the way they twitch on their own between his fingers. Eridan blushes so hard his eyes start to burn.

“You're adorable, Eridan,” says John, letting go of his captive fins in favor of steadying himself on Eridan's shoulders and climbing into his lap. The sea troll splutters and glubs and said fins twitch and fan out, a defense mechanism he momentarily forgets to control.

“Oh, man,” John moans, watching the membranes expand into their full capacity. Layers of paper-thin frills extend from the branches of his usual exposed cartilage, flushed purple and looking extra sensitive and oddly appealing.

“John,” he breathes, feeling the human's breath against his lips, “Is it alright if I, um, k-kiss you?”

It's his turn to blush now. Who even asks that? Kissing is something that should happen when so much love builds up inside two peoples' hearts that they can't stand it, and they close their eyes and lean in and then sappy music starts playing in the background as their lips meet and time stops. At least, that's what John was raised to believe.

In reality, when John whispers, “Yeah,” and leans forward, Eridan's glasses bump angrily into John's own, the metal frame digging uncomfortably into the bridge of his nose. As much as he enjoys feeling the troll's warm lips on his own, John has to pull away because the glasses thing is too painful to ignore.

Eridan pouts, and if John didn't know him better, he might be worried that he is legitimately offended. Of course, he's just greedy for John's attention, willing to do just about anything to wring the boy dry of his sympathy.

“Sorry,” John apologizes anyway, removing his glasses. He can't see worth shit without them, so it's only fair that he plucks the thick frames from Eridan's face, too. The sea dweller protests immediately.

“John, I can't see—“

But John silences him with a finger to his lips. He sets their glasses aside with care before turning his attention back to the troll.

“Shush, you don't need to. Just close your eyes, okay?”

Eridan hesitates for a moment, then complies. He wants this too much to fuss over stupid things like sight.

The young troll has never gotten past hand-holding with anyone, human or otherwise. And still, when the back of his hand bumps into John's sometimes when they're walking side by side, and the human boy laces their fingers together because he mistakes the accidental contact as an affectionate gesture, Eridan's heart skips and his throat goes dry and he can barely keep his composure enough to walk straight. Touching John makes him want to curl up like a newborn grub and submerge himself in that feeling forever, just another defense mechanism he failed to leave behind.

So when John brings their mouths together once more, Eridan's reflexes flare up and his stomach does flips and his nerves explode with the feeling of John's lips timidly pressed against his own.

Eridan is so tense that it makes the experience a lot less romantic than John would have liked his first kiss to be. John is relieved, at least, to find out that the sea troll doesn't taste at all like the ocean. His mouth tastes just like a mouth, which isn't great, but it's not bad.

But he isn't any better off himself. Technically, his first kiss was with Dave, who he had specifically asked to teach him the art of kissing. The thing is, Dave's a good kisser, but a shitty teacher, constantly reminding John about how much he sucks at this but never explaining anything in non-ironic terms so that he can understand. They eventually got frustrated with the whole ordeal, gave up, and agreed to never talk of their little one-on-one lesson ever again.

“Dude, you need to relax,” says John to Eridan once they break apart for air. The boy is breathless and cross-eyed and wearing that goofy grin that melts Eridan from the inside every time he sees it.

“I'm _tryin'_ ,” snaps the troll, “I don't get how you can be so fuckin' calm while doin' this.”

“I'm not calm,” John explains, “Here, I'll show you.”

He grabs one of Eridan's hands and presses it to his breast, and the aquarius can feel him trembling, feel his heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage. To John, his chest feels like it could burst from cramming so many feelings into one tiny area, and the sea troll is relieved to know he's not alone in his anxious state. He takes a few deep breathes, exhaling heavily against John's cheeks, gently ruffling the bangs that hang down loosely out of place.

John whispers, “Better now?” and Eridan nods, wetting his lips. He's ready this time, and John can tell just by looking at the way that purplish tongue darts out from behind pointed teeth that this is going to be the best kiss ever.

Their mouths collide, and John is right.

He's more than happy that Eridan ditches the tight-lipped chastity of his previous attempts. The eager troll makes a complete turn around, kissing back with an open mouth and raking his tongue over the human's bottom lip. John parts his lips to match his enthusiasm, and he can't suppress the moan that rises in his throat when the troll's slippery tongue wrestles with his own.

He realizes for the first time the unique properties of Eridan's tongue. It's probably a weird thing to observe, but in addition to the odd color, it is narrower and longer than a human's. More versatile, too, he adds when it curls around the tip of his own, with dozens of muscles working against his inferior human muscle. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before, and the alien sensation alone is enough to make his cock throb between his legs.

He leans forward against him and shivers when he discovers just how much Eridan is enjoying this. He can feel the troll's bone-bulge or whatever they call it twitch through his pants and oh, man, this really is the best kiss ever.

Eridan works his fingers under the hem of John's shirt, wanting to touch him and make him feel as good as he's feeling now. The human boy gasps and writhes against him when Eridan's cold fingertips start stroking his hip bones.

John's skin is softer than troll skin, pink and fleshy and easy to puncture. Eridan is careful with the force by which he drags his nails up and down the his sides, and when he starts tracing circles on the boy's back, John forgets about kissing him. He rests his cheek on Eridan's shoulder and sighs contentedly while goosebumps creep up his spine, puffs of breath ghosting hotly over Eridan's gills. It's enough to drive the aquatic troll crazy, and he chews his lip to keep from crying out.

“Please...” Eridan's voice is barely a whisper as he tilts his chin up, baring the flushed organs to his partner. His claws dig into John's shoulder blades, but the boy doesn't seem to mind.

“Can I really?” John wonders apprehensively, remembering how Eridan always keeps his gills hidden under his scarf. Being granted permission to touch them is an honor, and when the sea troll nods firmly, John presses his lips to the open slits.

Eridan's hips buck violently beneath him, and John is practically bounced into the air only to slam back down against the troll's legs. Their voices let loose in a succession of moans because that friction feels _so damn good_ , and it's suddenly difficult for John to concentrate on anything other than the aching boner in his pants.

Eridan, on the other hand, could happily live the rest of his life on land as long as John's open mouth keeps working wetly against his gills. Every rotation of the his jaw and curious swipe of his tongue sends pleasure searing through his abdomen.

He used to worry, ever since the palest of feelings began stirring deep within, that John would be turned off by his unusual anatomy. Of course, to the sea prince, there is nothing abnormal about his features at all. It's just that being around land dwellers all the time makes him feel outcast, less like royalty and more like a freak. He's heard John's offhand comments about how troll biology is so weird, and while he never said a thing, it's a blow to his self-esteem each time.

Eridan winces when John's tongue actually presses under a thin layer of skin, barely protecting the tissue there. The intrusion stings a little, as one can imagine it would, but he's too aroused to care. He hardly notices when John goes back to stroking the fanned out frills that twitch uselessly like butterfly wings pinched between his fingertips. John continues exploring the spongy purple tissue, stopping only when the troll's nails scratch welts into his skin.

“Oww,” he whines, arching his back. and the scratching stops at once.

John isn't even aware he's been rocking gently against Eridan until the aquarius lifts his hips to match him.

“I wwant this,” moans the troll, tugging impatiently at the t-shirt damply clinging to his body.

“You have to be more specific than that,” John teases, but with desperation in his voice to rival his companion's. He's not trying to be a dick, honest; the last thing he wants is to upset Eridan by taking this too fast or too slow.

The sea troll stutters, “T-touch me,” and flushes the most magnificent purple on the entire spectrum of purples. Eridan holds his breath when John's fingers tentatively graze his tented bulge, so to ensure his partner resumes breathing, John speeds up the process and slides his hand between hot flesh and soft boxers.

The crazy amount of excitement John feels is off the fucking charts. His pulse thumps in his ears and it's all he can do to keep himself from blasting off up into the night sky in this elated state of amazement and wonder. And it's all from simply touching Eridan, mapping out the uncharted territory of his alien body, and observing his reactions with utmost care. The only relief he gets is from the troll's bucking hips that occasionally grind against his cock, left neglected in the confinement of his shorts.

The sounds of Eridan's vocalized pleasure, however, make it worth the wait. John has waited for months to get close enough to the sea dweller that physical contact is even possible, not to mention the additional few weeks it takes the two of them to muster up enough courage to make this happen. And now that it's finally happening, a little longer feels like no time at all.

John wraps his hand around the length of Eridan's cock and starts pumping from the base upwards with quick flicks of the wrist and down again, slowly, rotating his hand just like he does to himself. It may be the only way he knows how, but by the high pitched whine and shameless volume of the troll's voice, he knows he must be doing something right.

Being touched by John is everything Eridan thought it would be and infinite times more. Getting off without the ever present pain in his chest caused by distance was unheard of during the time he'd grown close to John. Close enough to see the flushed cheeks of his moirail's round face every time he closed his eyes. He put on a smile for his human companion, but deep inside, it was torture. More conflicted emotions he had to add to the pile of shitty feelings accumulating in his think pan.

It doesn't take long before he is reduced to a blubbering mess, clinging to John's shoulders for dear life as the boy brings him closer to the edge with stroke. The troll's body seizes beneath him without warning, frantically bucking upwards into his hand and subsequently rubbing John's groin at just the right angle, because John lurches and and lunges forward. Stubby human fingers are tangled in two-toned hair, mouths mashing together in an indistinguishable frenzy of teeth and tongues.

They climax together, soaking their pants with genetic material and feeling more flushed for each other than ever before in the heat the moment. With his hand still tangled in messed-up hair, John's thumb rubs in circles around the base of Eridan's closest horn.

“Fuck, John. _Fuck!_ ” the troll cries out, and if John was looking in his eyes instead of pressing gentle kisses down Eridan's neck, over the slits on the side, he would see the purple liquid welling up in glossy eyes. His chest is heaving and his gills flex beneath John's lips as if he's trying and failing to use them to breathe, another stupid, unbreakable habit.

Once they've drawn out all the pleasure from groping and rutting against each other for a good minute after they come, their movements stop and John's soiled hand slips out of Eridan's pants. The tired sea prince slides down the headboard, the friction against the mattress causing his shirt to ride up around his chest, a sight that makes John giggle when he flops down beside him.

“You're laughin' at me!” He grips the shirt by its hem and bashfully tugs it down, but then John is hovering and holding his wrists in place right below his ribcage.

“I'm not!” the boy protests, “You're just so cute, Eridan.” And he's smirking as the sudden idea to blow raspberries on the troll's exposed stomach pops into his head.

So yeah, that's what he's doing now, entertaining the thought. He leans down and vibrates his slightly swollen lips against tender gray skin, making a loud _pfffffffffft_ noise that makes John's chest shake with repressed laughter.

“Wwhat the fuck! Glub! _GLUB!_ ” Eridan squirms, kicking his legs up and pressing his knees into John's chest until the boy lets him roll out from under him. John laughs for real this time, genuine fucking laughter, at Eridan's explosive reaction, and at how he loves him because it's ridiculous how much that really is. Realizing how amazing it is that they finally got what they have both been wanting for ages, despite how nervous he was to have his first real sexual experience and be totally okay that it was with another guy, and laughs at how little any of that being a homosexual stuff actually matters. He laughs so hard his eyes squeeze shut and Eridan can't even look at his stupid dumb human face without turning purple again. He yanks his shirt down and rolls onto his side, facing away from John.

The human boy follows and fits himself against the contour of Eridan's back, ignoring the uncomfortable wetness between his legs. He wraps his arms around his moiral-turned-matesprit-or-arguably-boyfriend and presses his lips against the back of his neck. Right now is time for cuddling, not time to work out the kinks in terminology.

It's also the first time he notices that the troll's fins have returned to their normal state, extending a mere few inches beyond the curve of his jaw, occasionally fluttering in response to John's subtle breathing. He watches until his eyelids become heavy and buries his face in the back of Eridan's shirt.

“Hey, John.”

He answers, “Yeah,” but he's already losing in the fight against sleep.

“I lovve you.”

Oh, man. There's that thick accent he likes so much, and his heart soars extra high in his hazy, sleepy state. If he could snuggle any tighter against his partner, that is what he would be doing.

“I love you, too,” and if Eridan said anything after that, John doesn't hear it. He holds onto this feeling all night long while he sleeps, more contently than he ever has in his life.


End file.
